


use your hands (and my spare time)

by stonesnuggler



Series: all we seem to do is talk about (sex) [2]
Category: Hockey RPF
Genre: Anal Fingering, Coming Untouched, Dead Dove: Do Not Eat, M/M, Mild D/S elements, Multi, Phone Sex, Plot What Plot/Porn Without Plot, Rimming, Sibling Incest, Threesome - M/M/M, or FaceTime Sex i guess?, some light praise kink
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-05-01
Updated: 2018-05-01
Packaged: 2019-04-30 00:39:49
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 4,560
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/14484921
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/stonesnuggler/pseuds/stonesnuggler
Summary: “Ten bucks says he whines about us starting without him,” Matty says as it’s ringing, rolling closer to Ryan, nuzzling his face into Ryan’s arm.Ryan laughs, just once. “I don’t want to lose ten--”“Neglecting me, as always, I see,” Dylan says, easy smile his face and Matty laughs, loud and bright.





	use your hands (and my spare time)

**Author's Note:**

  * Inspired by [if we’re gonna do anything (we might as well just fuck)](https://archiveofourown.org/works/12984087) by [Pinkmanite](https://archiveofourown.org/users/Pinkmanite/pseuds/Pinkmanite). 



> apparently whenever two stromes are in the same place and one strome wins a thing, that calls for a house of strome hatty via FaceTime! these poor boys can never be in the same place at the same time smh.
> 
> thank you to pinkmanite for giving me permission to write the sequel her piece deserves!! hope i did these three justice!!
> 
> title from 1975's sex

“Would you hurry up?” Matty groans into the pillow on Ryan’s hotel bed that he’s claimed as his own. “I know you’re ancient but --” 

“Do you really want to finish that sentence?” Ryan quips, raises an eyebrow as he looks down to where Matty’s face is smushed into the pillow. He types in the necessary information to get him logged into the mediocre hotel wifi and sighs when it finally,  _ finally  _ works. 

“Probably not,” Matty admits, but his grin matches the one on Ryan’s lips. 

As soon as Ryan’s laptop is fully connected, it’s easy to get FaceTime open and click on Dylan’s contact. 

“Ten bucks says he whines about us starting without him,” Matty says as it’s ringing, rolling closer to Ryan, nuzzling his face into Ryan’s arm. 

Ryan laughs, just once. “I don’t want to lose ten--” 

“Neglecting me, as always, I see,” Dylan says, easy smile his face and Matty laughs, loud and bright. Dylan’s in his bedroom in Tucson, one of Matty’s Bulldogs hoodies on with the hood up. It’s a little big on him, and he looks cozy. Ryan wishes -- not for the first time since they’ve been the three of them, and they’ve started FaceTiming each other in -- that Dylan could be here or real.

Matty interrupts Ryan’s sappy train of thought with a pointed, “I told you!” 

“Shut it,” Ryan says, putting a hand over Matty’s mouth. 

Matty sits up a little, grumbles around Ryan’s hand, “Make me.”

Dylan quirks an eyebrow. “Told you what?” 

“You shut it, too,” Ryan says, pointing to the screen. Dylan’s grinning like the cat that caught the canary. 

Matty takes the opportunity of a distracted Ryan to lick his palm, and Ryan pulls his hand away, wiping it across Matty’s face. Dylan’s laughing, but Matty still looks pleased with himself as he leans in, presses his lips to Ryan’s, sweet and easy. Ryan brings his hand up, cups Matty’s jaw as he presses two quick kisses, then kisses the tip of his nose. 

"It’s nothing new," Dylan sighs, whining just for the sake of it, and Ryan can almost hear the pout in his voice. “You guys neglect me all the time.”

"You're dramatic," Matty whines, rolling his eyes as he looks to Dylan on the screen. "This is for me, shut up."

"Relax," Ryan hums as he pushes his laptop to the unoccupied part of the bed. "When you win it for us, we'll come down there and show you how much you're not neglected."

Matty takes the opportunity of Dylan rendered a bit speechless to rearrange where he and Ryan are, finding the best angle for Dylan to have the best view. Ryan sitting up against the headboard, Matty in his lap. Perfect.

“Win it for  _ you _ , huh?” Dylan says after he’s found his voice again., and Ryan’s already got a shit eating grin on his face. “What if I wanted to win it for  _ me _ ?” 

“I mean, that’s cool too,” Matty says, muffled where he’s pressing kisses into Ryan’s neck. “Just saying that a Calder Trophy is a pretty sweet present.” 

Dylan points at the screen, says, “I swear to God, Matthew, if you jinx this--”

Ryan laughs, shaking his head. “Do you ever stop talking?”

"Not when no one's here to make me," Dylan sing songs, smirks a little. 

"Oh, Dyls," Ryan says, licking his lips, "I don't have to be there in person to get you to do what I want."

"Yeah," Matty chimes in helpfully, turning to face Dylan. "You always do whatever Ryan says, you ass-kisser." 

Dylan scoffs. “That’s—!”

“Tell me I’m wrong. Tell me, I  _ dare _ —“

Ryan rolls his eyes, smacks Matty in the hip. “Enough, you two. Or the only one getting off tonight is me.”

Dylan shuts up, eyes wide. Matty sighs into Ryan’s neck, and Ryan can see that the tips of his ears have gone pink. 

“That’s what I thought,” Ryan says, smug look on his face as he presses a kiss to the top of Matty’s head. 

Dylan sighs, and Ryan can hear fabric rustling, so he looks over to find Dylan adjusting his own laptop before getting up and going out of frame entirely.

“Where are you--” 

“He’s locking the door,” Matty says, kissing up to Ryan’s jaw. “Cappy almost walked in on me and him when we FaceTimed the other day.”

Ryan laughs, shakes his head. “Idiots,” he says, then kisses Matty, sweet and deep. 

Matty hums in surprise, but quickly gets with the program and melts into the press of Ryan’s lips on his. Ryan lets his hand run down the expanse of Matty’s back, settles them at his hips, tucking his thumbs in the waistband of Matty’s sweats. 

“I missed you guys,” Dylan says after he makes his way back in the frame, and Ryan breaks the kiss to sneak a look at him. He’s down to just his boxers, and Ryan can already see where his tell-tale flush is creeping down his chest, wants to see that across Matty’s chest, too. 

He tugs at the hem of Matty’s t-shirt, and Matty complies easily, sitting back against Ryan’s thighs and tugging it over his head by the collar. He tosses it to the other side of the room, moves to get his lips back on Ryan, but Ryan stops him with a hand to his stomach.

“Hold on a second,” Ryan says, a little dazed, dancing his fingertips over Matty’s abs, up to his chest, barely brushing over his nipples. He was right; the pink on Matty’s face trails down to his chest, making his freckles stand out. Ryan runs his fingers over them and Matty smiles, just a small thing, then sighs, and it catches in his throat. “Just wanna look for a second.”

“Damn, Matty,” Dylan says appreciatively. “Sight for sore eyes.”

“You saw me, like, five days ago,” Matty says, blush rising high on his cheeks from the attention. Ryan loves when he’s like this. 

“Doesn’t mean you’re not nice to look at,” Dylan says, like it’s the easiest thing in the world. 

Matty smiles, and Ryan finally lets him come back down to his level, immediately pressing his lips insistently into Ryan’s, licking at his lower lip. Ryan let’s him in, kisses him slow and sweet and through the crackly reception of hotel wifi, Ryan can hear Dylan hum.

Ryan tightens his grip where his hands are splayed across Matty’s hips, lets his thumbs tuck even further into Matty’s sweatpants, pushing them just slightly off his hips.

“Your night, Matts,” Ryan hums when they break for air. “What do you want?” 

Matt rests his forehead against Ryan’s, taking a deep steadying breath. “Y’know, every time this happens, I know you’re gonna ask that, but it never gets any less hot.” 

Dylan and Ryan both laugh, bright and breathy. 

“I’m serious!” Matty says, just shy of a pout, and Ryan tips his head up for a kiss, which Matty obliges to. 

“I know you are, sweetheart,” Ryan says, pushes Matty’s sweats down even lower. “How about we get these off while you think about it?” 

Matty nods and let’s Ryan push his sweats all the way over his ass, then shifts so he can kick them off the rest of the way.

“Nothing under?” Dylan notes, and when Ryan looks over, he can see Dylan pressing the heel of his hand into himself, just enough to rile himself up. “Bold.”

“What can I say,” Matty says, getting back on top of Ryan. “I know what you like.”

“Jesus,” Dylan sighs, amused, the shake of his head just barely noticable out of the corner of Ryan’s eye. “You’re unreal.” 

Matt doesn’t answer, just shivers into Ryan’s palms where he’s running his hands over the newly exposed skin of Matty’s ass. 

“Come on, babe,” Ryan urges. “Anything you want.”

Matty can’t help the little moan that escapes. Ryan’s hands are ritual against his skin, perfect pressure, leaving goosebumps in the wake of his fingertips..

“I-- Can you just,” Matty says, breathless, lower lip tucked between his teeth. “I don’t care, anything.”

“Use your words, Matty” Dylan says, smirk plastered to his face. Ryan’s got a sneaking suspicion that Dylan knows something he doesn’t. 

“ _ Dyl, _ ” Matty whines, pushing his hips forward into Ryan’s. Ryan’s breath hitches in his throat, fingertips pressing into Matty’s skin. 

Next to them, Dylan laughs, a barely-there thing that Ryan wouldn’t have even heard if he didn’t know Dylan. 

“I think you should eat him out,” Dylan says, sure and confident, and Matty whines softly as he sets his head on Ryan’s shoulder. His breathing is coming a little fast, and he’s pressing his lips against Ryan’s collarbone and Ryan’s head is spinning. “Always gets him so worked up. Wish you could’ve seen his face last time you did. I think he cried.”

“Fuck,” Matty breathes. “Shut  _ up _ .”

Ryan smiles, hums as he digs his nails into the skin of Matty’s ass, drags them out toward his hips. “How ‘bout it, Matty? I think Dyl has a pretty good idea.”

Matty nods. “Please, Ry?” 

“I’ve got you, baby,” Ryan says into his curls, before turning his head, looking at Dylan. Since the last time Ryan’s looked at him, he’s rid himself of his boxers, and Ryan has a full view of Dylan stroking himself lazily, cheeks red and lip tucked between his teeth. “Rewarding yourself for your bright idea?”

Dylan smiles, slows his hand even more, waiting for Ryan to tell him to stop. But with an idea like that one, Ryan will let him off the hook this one time. “It’s Matty’s night. He should get what he wants.”

“You’re right,” Ryan says, and he can feel Matty shiver against him, face tucked into his shoulder. “That seem like a pretty good reward for how well you did tonight? Can that be how I show you how proud I am of you?”

“Ahem—“

“How proud  _ we _ are?” Ryan corrects. He does have to look over to know Dylan’s smiling as he works himself over. 

“ _ Fuck _ ,” Matty whimpers. “Please, Ry? 

“Anything for you, baby,” Ryan promises, then flips them over. “Hands and knees. Gotta show Dyl how great his idea was. He always knows how to take care of you, doesn’t he?”

“Ry,” Dylan whispers, breath catching in his throat. 

Ryan smiles as Matty is adjusting, runs a hand along the bare skin of his ass, just barely able to make out the red lines from his nails. His dick hangs heavy between his legs, hard and flushed red to the tip and Ryan’s mouth waters. 

Once Matty settles, he’s exactly how Ryan loves him; ass up, arms up by his head, folded under it so he can rest on them. He’ll probably have a bruise on his arm where he’ll inevitably bite the skin raw trying to be quiet. 

He won’t need to be.

Ryan thinks he’s beautiful, tells Matty as much and Matty squirms as he sighs.

“I don’t think so, baby brother,” Dylan is saying, which makes Ryan look up. Matty’s got his face turned away from the laptop, away from Dylan. “Don’t hide that pretty face from me.”

“Dyl’s right, sweetheart,” Ryan encourages, runs a soothing hand along Matty’s back that he pushes back into. “Besides, nothing fun to look at over there. Wouldn’t you rather watch him get off for us?”

Matty groans, then turns his head. “When you put it that way,” he manages, and Dylan laughs. 

“Come on, Ry,” Dylan says just as Matty pushes his ass back at Ryan. “Wanna see.”

“Pushy today,” Ryan notes, and Dylan bites his lip. “Patience might do you some good.”

“Ryan,  _ please _ ,” Matty says, dragging the words out. 

Ryan smirks, gets his hands on Matty’s ass, just barely spreading his cheeks and Matty gasps. “Please what?”

“Fuck,” Dylan says, picking up the pace a bit where he’s got a hand around himself. “You’re gonna make him say—“

“Say it, Matty,” Ryan orders. Matty just moans, doesn’t say a word, so Ryan drags his forefinger between Matty’s cheeks slowly, lifts it right before he brushes over his hole. “Tell me what you--”

“Please eat me out,” Matty says, small, and Dylan moans. “Want your mouth on me, Ry, come on. I earned it.” 

“Oh, you  _ earned  _ it, huh?” Ryan says, and he can tell by the way Matty’s shoulders shake that he’s laughing. 

“Said it yourself,” Dylan says with a shrug. “He  _ did  _ play really well.”

Ryan smiles, runs his hands over Matty’s ass again. “Keep going, Dyl,” he says, then presses a kiss to both of Matty’s cheeks before spreading them and licking a broad stripe right over Matty’s hole. 

Matty gasps and his hips twitch -- almost like he’s trying to decide if he wants to push into Ryan’s tongue or pull away from it. 

Dylan does keep going though, says, “God, Matty. Wish you could see how much he loves this.” 

Ryan hums as he licks a slow path from Matty’s balls all the way up before circling his rim, once, then twice with the tip of his tongue. 

“Think he likes it almost as much as you do,” Dylan says, and Matty lets himself moan, low in the back of his throat as Ryan presses an easy kiss to his rim. “That’s it, babe. We’re so proud of you.” 

“ _ God, _ ” Matty gasps, and Ryan kisses his hole again, laving over it with a quick, practiced pressure. He’s getting Matty sloppy and wet, just how he knows Matty likes it, and Matty relaxes into it, lets himself push back into Ryan’s mouth. Ryan takes his hands away, only for a minute so he can shove his own sweats down and off his hips so he can get a hand around himself. His mouth never leaves Matty though, still running the tip of his tongue over him in lazy circles. 

“He’s getting off on this,” Dylan says, and he’s a little breathless. Ryan can relate. “I love watching him work you up like this. Seeing you fall apart.” 

“Dyl, can I--” Matty starts, just as Ryan runs his finger through the mess of spit around Matty’s hole, pushes against it just slightly. “Oh,  _ fuck. _ That’s not even  _ fair. _ ”

“Use your words, baby,” Ryan mumbles into his skin, pressing a kiss to his thigh. “What do you want?” 

Instead of answering, Matty shifts, bringing one of his arms out from under his head, snaking it down under himself and he almost gets away with it until -- 

“Mmm, that seems bold, Matty,” Dylan says and Matty freezes. 

Ryan has to breathe for a second, just press easy kisses into Matty’s skin as he takes in the scene playing out on his laptop. Dylan’s half out of the frame, the hand wrapped around himself still for just a moment before Ryan hears the familiar snick of a cap. He can see Dylan pour a bit of lube from the bottle, warming it in his hand before getting a hand back on his dick. He tosses a wink at Ryan, then says, “You usually listen so well.” 

“You try listening while he’s doing this to you,” Matty says, and Ryan has to laugh against his skin, trace a finger over his hole again. “Jesus  _ fuck _ , Ryan.”

“What do you want, Matt?” Ryan asks, presses another kiss to his hole. 

Matty groans, brings his hand back to run his hand through Ryan’s hair. “I wanna get off. Want your hand on my dick,” he says, just short of a command, bringing his arm back up by his head. On the laptop, Dylan raises his eyebrows, still steadily stroking himself. “Please,” Matty adds, for good measure.

“That’s my boy,” Ryan says, then gets his mouth back on Matty. He works him open with his tongue, and Matty melts into it, doesn’t hold back from the noises that escape as Ryan works the tip of his tongue into him. He sacrifices getting himself off to do just that to Matty, snaking his hand up and around his leg so he can pull at Matty’s dick where it’s hard and leaking and he absolutely  _ keens. _

Dylan’s watching intently, hand moving at the same pace it has since Ryan last looked, the slide easier with the help of the lube. He’s twisting his wrist right at the head, letting his thumb run over the slit and all the way back down. It’s a little mesmerizing, and he’s grateful that the angle of the laptop lets him see Dylan while he takes Matty apart. 

“What’s he doing, Matty?” Dylan asks, just as Ryan brings his other hand up, runs the tip of his finger along the same course as the tip of his tongue. “You look like you’re gonna bite a hole right through your lip.” 

“Fuck, Dyl,” Matty says, breathing heavy. Ryan is still steadily pulling Matty’s cock,  “He’s-- His tongue is-- Feels so good.” 

“Yeah?” Dylan asks, and Ryan can feel Matty nod. “He got his tongue in you?” 

“Mhmm,” Matty hums, pushing back into Ryan. “S’being a tease with his fingers though.”

“Gotta ask for what you want, babe,” Dylan says. “You know that.” 

“Want you to stop being such an ass-kisser,” Matty grumbles into his arm, and Ryan has to laugh at that. “Come on, Ry,  _ please _ . Want your fingers.” 

“Who’s an ass-kisser now?” Dylan says, then gets a wicked look in his eyes, smile spreading across his face. “Wait. I guess that would be Ryan.” 

Ryan rolls his eyes, and Matty can’t stop shaking with laughter. Ryan can stop him though, and does, pushing his first finger into him slowly, easy and pliant. Matty swears around the laughter in his throat, rocking forward into Ryan’s hand, backward into his finger. 

“Enough of that,” Ryan says, fondly, and Dylan’s still laughing a little. “You, too, Dylan. I’m not done with you yet.” 

“Yeah?” Dylan says, a gleam of challenge in his eye. “Hit me with your best shot, babe.” 

Ryan quirks an eyebrow, slowly pulls his finger out of Matty, crooking his finger to tug at his rim before slowly pushing it back in. “Matty, sweetheart, grab me the lube. Under your pillow,” he directs, and Matty does, passing it off to Ryan quickly. 

Ryan has to take his hands off of Matty for a fraction of a second -- even that’s too long, judging by Matty’s sigh -- just to uncap the lube and warm it between his fingers before he pushes one into him, working him over with a little more intent. Dylan is waiting patiently, resigned himself to watching Matty squirm. He’s even stilled his hand, gripping loosely at the base of his dick, even though Ryan knows he’s just itching to jack himself off.

“Matty decides when you get to come,” he says pointedly. Matty swears under his breath just as Dylan swears out loud, biting his lip and letting his eyes shut, head thunking against the headboard. 

“But he’s a menace! That’s not even--” 

“It’s my-- oh  _ fuck-- _ My night,” Matty says, arms shaking. “’s only fair.”

“That’s my boy,” Ryan says, pressing another kiss to Matty’s ass, just for good measure. Dylan’s squirming, and Ryan can almost see the internal struggle of if he wants to edge himself or not on his face. He really doesn’t know when Matty will let him come, Ryan taught him too well. “You can come when you need, baby.” 

“Oh, thank  _ fucking  _ god,” Matty groans, turns his face into the pillow and rocks back into Ryan’s touch. Ryan slips in a second finger, crooks them up and a bit to the right and Matty shudders, moan cracking in his throat. “Wait, hold on, just--” 

Ryan and Dylan both pause, ready to check on him -- to stop if they need -- but Matty just flips over and lays himself out for Ryan. 

“I’m okay, I promise, just come  _ here _ ,” Matty pleads, tugging at Ryan’s arm. 

Ryan falls forward, just barely able to catch himself with a hand near the pillows and Matty laughs as he wraps his arms around the back of Ryan’s neck, pulling him in for a kiss. It’s sweet and soft in all the ways that it’s not; deep and filthy but not biting or rushed. It makes Ryan’s head spin, makes him happy he can have this.  

“Sap,” Dylan chirps, the slick sounds of his hand moving just barely audible over the speakers. Ryan laughs into Matty’s mouth, still steadily pushing his fingers into him, hitting his prostate nearly every time. 

“Ryan, I-- ” Matty starts, hips pushing up searching for friction. “I need--” 

“Do you?” Dylan says, a little smug. “Didn’t need a hand on you the other day. Came from just your fingers.” 

Ryan’s brain goes offline for just a second, but he’s back with the program quickly as Matty clenches around his fingers. His smirk mirrors Dylan’s as he picks up a decent rhythm, paying even more attention to his prostate than before. “Is that so?” 

Matty squeezes his eyes shut, nods a few times. “It was so much. He kept talking about --” he cuts himself off with a moan “-- about you. And what you’d do if you were there. How you --  _ ah _ \-- keep us both in line.” 

“Yeah?” 

Matty nods again, kisses Ryan twice, just quick, open mouthed and sloppy like he gets when he’s close. “Mhmm. Just wanted you there.” 

“You’ve got me now, baby. Both of us,” Ryan promises. “Think you can do it again? I really wanna see.” 

“ _ Fuck _ ,” Dylan moans, reaches his free hand up to roll his nipples in between his fingers. “Matty.” 

“I-- Fuck, yeah, I’ll try,” he says, and Ryan has to kiss him, so he does. 

Ryan sits back, between Matty’s knees and Matty’s clenching around his fingers, tears gathering in his eyes.

“Come on, baby, I’ve got you,” Ryan encourages, slipping a third finger in and curling them up, his other hand pulling lazily at his own cock. “Will you be good and come for me, Matty? Please?”

Matty just moans, clenches down on Ryan’s fingers again, just as Ryan drives home and hits his prostate full on and Matty arches his back off the bed as he comes, cock jumping against his stomach as his come streaks across his abs. All Ryan can do is stare, pull his fingers out slowly and rub his thumb soothingly along Matty’s inner thigh.

“Jesus, Matt,” he whispers, his own need to come heightened by seeing Matty reach the edge. You’re--”

“So fucking incredible,” Dylan finishes, and he sounds dazed in the way that he always does when he’s so close. “So good for us, I’m so proud of you.”

“Come on, Dyl,” Matty says, turning his head to look at Dylan on the screen, still breathing heavy. Dylan’s still thumbing over his nipples, hard and flushed under his touch, and stroking himself efficiently. “You and Ry at the same time. Wanna see. Please?”

Ryan groans at that, but he gets up on his knees anyway, still jacking himself off with barely any finesse. He props himself up over Matty with a hand near his head, kissing him once, twice before--

“Ry, I’m so fucking close, you gotta--” 

“Me, too, Dyl,” Ryan admits, turning his head to look at him. He’s always such a sight for sore eyes, so beautiful and so good and --

“Come on,” Matty pleads from under Ryan, running the tip of his finger down Ryan’s chest. “Dylan, do it.” 

“Jesus fucking -- Ryan, I’m gonna,” Dylan manages, voice strained. 

It’s enough to send Ryan full speed ahead toward the edge, and from what it sounds like, Dylan’s not far behind. It takes seeing Dylan come, spilling onto his stomach, pooling in his hip that gets Ryan there, adding to the mess on Matty’s stomach, a little getting where his chest is still flushed pink all the way down to his nipples. It’s such a sight, Matty all messed up, that Ryan can hardly catch his breath.

Matty sighs, relaxed, after a moment or two and Ryan has let himself collapse at his side. “That was unreal.” 

On the laptop, Dylan hums, content smile on his face as he half-heartedly wipes off his stomach with a tissue. 

“We’re getting pretty good at this,” he says, bringing his laptop closer so Matty and Ryan can only see from the splotchy pink of his chest, up to where the same pink is dusting his cheeks. 

“Yeah, I’d say so,” Ryan says, smiles soft and easy before pressing a kiss to Matty’s shoulder. 

Matty hums, pulls Ryan’s laptop closer, too. Ryan kisses Matty one more time before padding to the bathroom, washes his hands, and then wets a washcloth to bring back. When he gets back, Matty’s got an arm tucked under the pillow, shoulders just barely turned, mirroring Dylan almost perfectly on the screen, and Ryan’s heart skips a beat. 

Dylan must see him pause, because Ryan can see his eyes flick up and his smile soften impossibly more. He slides into bed next to Matty, kisses his shoulder in warning before swiping the cloth across his stomach and tossing it behind him before shutting off the lamp.

“Come on, up,” he urges, trying to turn down the covers. “You’ll bitch about being cold in five minutes if we don’t get under them now.”

Matty groans, still loose and lazy after his orgasm, but he lets Ryan maneuver the covers out from under him before pulling them over the both of them. Ryan fits himself around Matty’s back, tangling their legs together and draping an arm over his chest, pulling him close. Matty reaches up, tangles their fingers together. 

“Miss you, Dyl,” Matty says, soft and barely there. 

Dylan smiles, a little sad. “I miss you both. Soon, though.” 

“Hopefully not,” Ryan notes. “For the sake of you two and the runs you’re gonna go on.” 

“Hush,” Matty says, snuggling back into Ryan. 

Ryan presses a kiss to his hair. “I mean it. I’m so proud of both of you.” 

“You’re such a sap,” Dylan says, but he’s got Matty’s hoodie tucked into his arm, so he has no room to talk. 

“Must’ve learned that from you,” Ryan says, sticking out his tongue for good measure.

It’s quiet for a beat, then Matty yawns, setting the rest of them off. 

“It’s late there,” Dylan says. “You two should rest.” 

“You, too,” Matty says, and in the little box, Ryan can see his eyes slide shut. 

“Probably for the best,” Ryan admits. “Love you, Pickle.” 

“Love you both,” Dylan says, smile soft and sleepy. “Proud of you, Beans.” 

“Love you, Dyl,” Matty yawns. “Good luck tomorrow.” 

Dylan smiles, blows them an exaggerated kiss before ending the call, and Ryan untangles his fingers from Matty’s for just a second to shut his laptop and set it on the bedside table. 

As soon as he’s settled, Matty turns over, burying his nose into Ryan’s neck and takes a deep breath, relaxing into his side. 

“Glad you’re here,” he mutters, nosing at Ryan’s collarbone. Ryan’s heart flutters as he presses a kiss to Matty’s hair.

“Me too, Beans,” Ryan says. “Get some sleep, conference champ.”

He can feel Matty smile against his skin, and by the time Matty’s breathing evens out, Ryan’s sound asleep with Matty wrapped around him, perfectly content.

  
  
  
  
  



End file.
